


Twitterfic 28 - Paul Sevier x Reader

by LadyFiasco



Category: Midnight Special (2016)
Genre: AFAB reader - Freeform, DFAB reader, F/M, Finger Sucking, Fingerfucking, Shameless Smut, Smut, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-22 21:48:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30045255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyFiasco/pseuds/LadyFiasco
Summary: Writing smut for Twitter!Using a picture/gif and a specific word or phrase."Paul’s got me feeling some type of way tonight, I want all that nerdy intensity"
Relationships: Paul Sevier/You
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	Twitterfic 28 - Paul Sevier x Reader

How did you wind up here? You’re honestly not sure. All you know was there were some strange things happening in your town, and now you found yourself in a cold, bland room, about to be interviewed by the NSA.

You’d entered the room and found a man hunched over the desk in the corner, scribbling away in a notebook. He was wearing a mustard-coloured shirt, his top button undone to reveal the collar of a white undershirt. As you approached the chair opposite him, he angled his face up and met your gaze.

He was a little nerdy looking, but really quite handsome. Short dark hair, thick waves that were barely reaching the collar of his shirt. Thin-rimmed glasses, slightly thicker at the top of the frames, deep hazel eyes behind them. Pale skin dotted with several freckles, and plush pink lips. As you looked at him, it occurred to you that… Well, you might struggle to concentrate.

He gestured for you to take a seat, and you obliged, smoothing out your skirt as you did so. He didn’t take his eyes off you the entire time. In all honesty, he was looking at you a little intensely. Must be serious work, you thought.

“Hi. My name’s Paul Sevier. Uh, thanks for coming in today,” he said, finally breaking the silence. He offered you his hand, which fully encompassed yours, gripping you in a firm handshake. You smiled at him and gave him your name.

His lip quivered a little. “That’s pretty. Uh, so…”

He finally broke his gaze just long enough to point at the whiteboard which was leaning against the wall. “Do any of those numbers mean anything to you? Are there… Any patterns that stand out to you?” he asked, looking back at you and tilting slightly.

You swivelled in your chair to face the whiteboard. Your brows knit together in confusion, trying to make sense of what you saw before you. There were just a bunch of random numbers hastily written on the board.

“Nothing springs to mind,” you muse after a little while in silence.

He hums, and stands up. It’s only then you realise quite how large this man is; it didn’t really seem that way while he was hunched over the desk. He wanders over to the board, crossing his arms and studying the numbers. You stare in awe at his broad back.

This nerdy, handsome, big man in front of you? He was making you run a little hot. Your thighs pressed together instinctively as your mind wandered. He turned round and caught you staring. You blushed immediately, averting your gaze to the board behind him.

Out of the corner of your eye though, you could have swore you noticed him gulp. His Adam’s Apple bobbing in his throat. He seemed to take in a sharp breath.

“Maybe… You need a closer look?” he suggested. Now it was your turn to gulp.

You stood up slowly, and made your way over, standing next to him. He rolled up his shirt sleeves and turned back to the board, arms crossed again. The previously cold room seemed like a sauna all of a sudden.

Warmth emanating from his body, as he stood there in silence. Occasionally he would sneak a glance over to your face, before flitting his eyes back over the numbers. Your heart was pounding. Were you imagining this tension, or was it actually happening?

“Um… So, uh… The numbers don’t really mean much to me. What about you, Paul?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady.

He stroked his chin, his fingers brushing over the rough stubble on his face, as he pondered the question.

“I’m not sure yet. I think I need to trial a few things,” he replied, his eyes narrowing as he stared at the board.

“What kind of things?” Your curiosity was piqued.

“Well,” he began, turning to face you. “...sometimes you need to look at things in a different light. Or perhaps hear them in a different way.” You wondered what exactly he meant by that, and shot him a slightly quizzical look.

“There’s a lot to be gleaned from analysing patterns of speech,” he continued. “With that being said… Could you do me a favour? Perhaps you could read the numbers aloud to me.”

You raised an eyebrow and tilted your head slightly. “Oh… Okay. Sure.” You faced the board again, scanning over the numbers.

“Twenty-eight. Thirty-two. Four. Seven. Sixteen.” Paul watches you intently as you read the numbers out loud. His eyes are glued to your lips, watching the shapes you make as each word leaves your mouth.

You glance over at him, gauging his response. “W-was that okay?”

“Yes… But we’ll need to repeat it under several conditions. We can’t be sure unless we’re thorough. We never know what it might… Trigger, unless we try.” His eyes were flitting between you and the board the whole time.

Your heart rate continued to rise. What… Kind of conditions was he talking about?

He uncrosses his arms and moves to stand behind you. “Just try to repeat the numbers exactly as you did before,” he says, his warm breath tickling the back of your neck. It sends shivers down your spine.

“Uh, okay. Twenty-eight. Thirty-two. Four. Seven. Sixteen.” You repeat the numbers, your voice a little more shaky as you become aware of just how close he is behind you.

“Mhm. Again, please,” he says.

You let out a little sigh and compose yourself. “Twenty-eight. Thirty-two. Four. Seven. Six-” You’re caught off guard when he brushes the hair away from your neck.

“Please, continue.”

Fuck. Is this… Actually happening?

“Um. Twenty-eight. Thirty-two. Four…” Your voice trails off and your whole body runs hot when you suddenly feel his lips against your neck. “Oh, fuck… Uh… Seven. Sixteen.”

He pulls away. “Interesting… Did you notice how your speech pattern changed when you were stimulated elsewhere?” he says, talking quietly in your ear. You feel yourself clench, a breath catching in your throat.

“Y-yes, I guess so. Um… Shall I go again?”

“Please.” So polite, you think to yourself. So polite. And nerdy. And hot.

“Twenty-eight. Thirty-” This time you’re cut short when you gasp, as he places his large hands on your hips, gripping them tightly and pulling you back against him. A jolt of desire shooting straight to your cunt as you feel him pressed against you. “...two. Four. Seven. Sixteen,” you continue, barely able to form the words.

“Now, you’ve repeated these numbers a few times,” he begins, his hands rubbing up and down your sides now. “Are you sure you don’t see any patterns? Notice anything that links them together?”

You shake your head, partly to communicate your response, but also to try and clear your head. “No, Paul. I, um… I’m not sure.”

“Okay. Well, if you’re happy to continue, I’d like to… Take it a little further. Try something that might open your mind even more?”

Your eyes widen as you stare ahead at the whiteboard. “S-sure. I’m happy to continue.”

“Excellent. Now, please, go ahead, once more,” he says, his thumbs now hooking into the hem of your skirt. Your face is flushed and your mouth is dry. But you try again to get the numbers out.

This time, each number is separated by a long pause as you find your mind focusing on what exactly Mr. Sevier’s fingers are doing.

“Twenty-eight…” Dipping beneath the hem of your skirt.

“Thirty-two…” Caressing the tops of your thighs.

“Four…” Trailing one index finger towards your warm, wet cunt.

“Seven…” Slipping said index finger underneath the lace of your underwear.

“Sixteen…!” Accentuated by a gasp, as he parts your dripping folds and gently pushes inside of you.

You find yourself leaning back against him, your legs nearly giving out. His other hand moves to grip your hip tightly once more, keeping you steady, as he starts pumping his finger in and out of you.

“O-oh, fuck…” you moan, completely distracted now. He leans in again, his lips grazing against the crook of your neck.

“Keep trying, kitten.” That catches you completely off guard, and you moan louder as increases his pace inside of you.

“Twenty-eight… Thirty-two… Four... Seven... Sixteen.” He’s quickly pushing you towards your peak, adding a second finger, hitting the sweet spot inside you.

“Mhm. You’re doing so well. I’m… Gleaning a lot of information from how you speak,” he says, before pressing soft kisses to your neck.

A few more thrusts and you come apart completely, feeling your walls tighten around his fingers. Thighs shaking, deep moans spilling from your mouth, as he works you through your pleasure.

He eventually withdraws, removing his hand from beneath your skirt, and brings it to your mouth. You don’t know what’s come over you, but you eagerly flick out your tongue and suck his fingers clean. His grip on your hip tightens as he feels your tongue around his slick digits.

“Good… Very good,” he muses.

Your mind is hazy, trying to comprehend what just happened, post-orgasmic bliss taking over your senses.

“Now, about those numbers. Do you see anything special about them now?”

Your eyes focus on the board again. “They… They’re all multiples of four… Except for seven.”

“Excellent work, kitten. Though I have to admit, I think I need to hear more from you. About the investigation, of course. Would you mind staying a little longer?”


End file.
